A thatched roof covers a marble arch
in a dichotomy of a surreal dream
where two birds without a name
come from a sea of crystals balls.
A bird's eye view is brought under their wings;
they perch upon my Mediterranean sea.
Archetypes of palms and coconut trees,
islands resting upon the crests of waves,
footprints in the sand that are never erased,
on the sunkissed shores hutments are lined,
mud walls adorned by a paste of rice,
nights when the moon hides among trees,
colours on a palette swelling up in tides,
overflow a godly canvas and rush to the rocks in a spray of light.
I overhear their restful words, "This world of mine is a crucible of a kind .
Nothing ever freezes; everything flows into colours I see but cannot name.
Once upon a time we took a flight in search of many precious stones.
Now we perch upon a window sill and watch the waves come and go.
The afternoon warms our tired wings, and all that we sought,
comes back to us in a haze of the afterglow."
in a dichotomy of a surreal dream
where two birds without a name
come from a sea of crystals balls.
A bird's eye view is brought under their wings;
they perch upon my Mediterranean sea.
Archetypes of palms and coconut trees,
islands resting upon the crests of waves,
footprints in the sand that are never erased,
on the sunkissed shores hutments are lined,
mud walls adorned by a paste of rice,
nights when the moon hides among trees,
colours on a palette swelling up in tides,
overflow a godly canvas and rush to the rocks in a spray of light.
I overhear their restful words, "This world of mine is a crucible of a kind .
Nothing ever freezes; everything flows into colours I see but cannot name.
Once upon a time we took a flight in search of many precious stones.
Now we perch upon a window sill and watch the waves come and go.
The afternoon warms our tired wings, and all that we sought,
comes back to us in a haze of the afterglow."
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